


In Another Life, I'd Love You Just the Same

by 44TayLo



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bruce is a sweet talking archer, Clint is a science nerd, Deaf Clint Barton, M/M, aka Canon Clint Barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 21:06:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8549107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/44TayLo/pseuds/44TayLo
Summary: "It should have seemed odd, how close they became in such a short amount of time. To Clint, it felt nothing short of natural.They found they had nothing, and somehow everything, in common."In another life, Clint is a scrawny science nerd, and Bruce is the very attractive captain of the archery team.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: Hulkeye prompt- role reversal! Clint is the nerdy scientist and Bruce is the smooth talking archer :3

Clint was a scrawny nothing of a boy. The too big hand-me-downs he wore only made him look smaller. Somehow, he and his brother managed to land in the same foster home, and for once the family was nice enough. Still, Clint mostly wore his brother’s outgrown clothes. That was okay, though. At least he was warm.

He also wore purple hearing aids. They didn’t give him any points with the other kids at school, but that was okay, too. He was just glad to be able to hear well enough to learn. Clint found himself living day to day in a state of “that’s okay.” He wondered if he’d ever be more than “okay.”

Clint read. He read small books, big books, old books, new books, fantasy and science fiction novels, biographies, poetry, and books about space. His hearing wasn’t spectacular, but his eyesight was superb, and so he put it to use.

Eyes glued to the back of a worn, hardback copy of “ _Grey’s Anatomy”_ , Clint sat in homeroom without his hearing aids in. It wasn’t until he felt a faint tapping on his shoulder that he pulled his gaze away. A tall, muscular brunet stood over him, with a smirk on his lips that usually meant Clint missed something all of the hearing people had caught. Clint quickly grabbed his hearing aids and put them back in, if only so he had something to do other than stare at the guy.

“Yes?” Clint asked, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. He was pretty sure he didn’t.

“The bell just rang. Thought you’d want to know,” the brunet offered. His voice was deep and husky and oh shit, this guy was the epitome of a man. Clint still looked like he could be in middle school.

“Um, thanks,” Clint muttered, looking down at the ground and grabbing his backpack.

“Don’t mention it. I’d hate for you to get detention on the first day. That’s not where a cute guy like you belongs.”

Clint’s head snapped up, his eyes wide in surprise. The brunet just winked at him and walked away.

Clint shook his head, shuffling slowly to his next class. It was chemistry, and he liked chemistry. Chemistry was easy. Chemistry made sense. Chemistry didn’t call him cute when he was the least attractive individual he’d ever met, with his scrawny arms and self-given haircuts. That guy had scruff and muscles and strangely soft, brown eyes. There was no way he’d want anything to do with Clint.

As Clint walked into class, he realized it might not be as easy as he thought. The mystery man was sitting in the very back. Clint snuck in quietly, and took a seat at the front, hoping the man wouldn’t notice. Their eyes met as he set his backpack down, of course, and the brunet grinned.

They didn’t speak to each other for two weeks. During that time, Clint found out a little bit about the mystery man. He was the captain of the archery team, and the football team’s star quarterback. He also didn’t pay attention in class. He wasn’t horrible at chemistry, but he wasn’t great, either.

Eventually, they were paired up as lab partners. It was a series of litmus paper tests, which shouldn’t have been too hard. The guy –Bruce was his name, he’d found out– seemed nervous to touch anything.

“Wanna help?” Clint asked. He wasn’t trying to be mean. He could easily do it on his own, but the labs were supposed to be fun. In terms of grading, they were a joke.

Bruce bit his lip. “Uh, no, that’s okay. I don’t want to mess it up.”

“I don’t think you’ll mess it up.”

Bruce shook his head, looking down at the table. “I’m not very smart. I’m not any good at science.”

Clint dropped the subject. It didn’t sit well with him, but the conversation was obviously making Bruce uncomfortable, and that was the last thing Clint wanted to do. He finished the lab quickly, and Bruce didn’t say another word the rest of the period.

After class, Bruce asked him to eat lunch with him. Clint cautiously agreed. It sounded an awful lot like a joke. But, Bruce’s eyes seemed honest.

He was relieved to find him exactly where he said he’d be in the cafeteria. After that, they had lunch together every day, and soon they started talking outside of school. It should have seemed odd, how close they became in such a short amount of time. To Clint, it felt nothing short of natural.

They found they had nothing, and somehow everything, in common. Bruce didn’t pity Clint or try to console him when he told him he lived in foster care. He’d shook his head and said, “That’s rough, babe,” not pressuring him to continue if he didn’t want to. He didn’t.

Bruce never talked about his family or his childhood. It made Clint wonder what things were like at home for him. Instead, Bruce liked to talk about the feeling of synchronization with his bow when he pulled back an arrow and loosed it. He talked about how he sometimes pretended to be the arrow, whizzing through the air, free until it died in the middle of a bullseye.

He talked about how he only played football because that was where the big scholarship money was, and even though he didn’t think he was smart, he wanted to go to college. He told Clint that he needed to get out of this town, but he didn’t like himself when he played football. He lost himself in aggression. Stargazing on their backs at a park by the high school, Bruce whispered to him that his biggest fear was losing himself in anger.

Clint whispered back that his was finding out there wasn’t anything of himself to lose.

When Bruce turned to him, his soft eyes glinting in the moonlight, and pressed in so their lips met, Clint thought he felt like one of Bruce’s arrows. He just prayed they never hit the target.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Feel free to prompt me on tumbler. My URL is supersecretsciencebrosclub.


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